


It's A Dog's Life

by ImagineShannons



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Steve, Hurt Steve Rogers, M/M, Male Bonding, POV Bucky Barnes, Protective Bucky Barnes, Steve Angst, Steve Feels, Steve Has Issues, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers Feels, Stucky - Freeform, dog au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 02:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4648755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineShannons/pseuds/ImagineShannons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is a dog and Steve needs a companion</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's A Dog's Life

**Author's Note:**

> Second chapter is in the works

To say he panicked would be an understatement; hysterical would be a better way to describe the state Bucky had entered. He’d been fine and then the next thing he’d known, he’d woken up like this – ’This’ being a dark chocolate Labrador. He’d realised the change and tried to run – like he always did when faced with a problem. A stupid reaction, of course, but he couldn’t begin to accept that he was now a dog. His attempt to escape his problems led him to lap his apartment six times easily, then out of his open window and onto the fire escape.  
There, he did not stop running, the adrenaline and the rush of his thoughts drove him faster with no destination. Eventually he slowed, tiredness compensating for the energy expelled however long he was running for. When his body was exhausted, his mind had still only just begun its turmoil. 

I’m a dog? I’m a fucking dog? How did this happen? How could this happen?  
With all his thoughts pointed internally, Bucky failed to take in his surroundings; the uproar of a wild dog had caused many to flee the unpredictable animal.  
So here he was now: a dog stuck in the pound.  
He’d sat, in a state of shock, unaware of the world around him for hours before his stubbornness made an appearance.

This is all mad but it seems to be staying; what’s happening now is more important. The only two options are to be locked in here or taken to some random persons house. What if I can’t get away? I’m gonna need to get out before I’m homed. 

On his third day in captivity with no luck escaping, the pound was open to the public. His anxieties of rehoming were calmed by the knowledge it was a Monday -and nine in the morning- there wouldn’t be anyone in for a while. That was until a tall, well-built man strolled in. He walked with an unconscious confidence, never shying away from even the most rabid of dogs. When he approached Bucky’s cage, Bucky looked at the stranger questioningly, neither backing away from his studying gaze nor going to greet him. Instead he studied him back, head tilting to the side and taking in every detail: His scuffed up trainers probably from running, his stretched shirt probably an old favourite from before he got the muscles and couldn’t bear to throw out, the bags under his bright blue eyes from lack of sleep and the tousled blonde hair. His gaze rested on those eyes, the ones that seemed tired yet determined.

“Hiya, Buddy.” He smiled at Bucky, stood back up, then left the way he had entered.  
To say Bucky was disappointed would be ridiculous but true. Though Bucky thought he looked a little ragged around the edges, this stranger had a kind gaze and a soft smile. He couldn’t just leave.  
Bucky laid down in a huff, unwilling to face the fact he might be stuck here a while longer. This wasn’t fair; he didn’t ask to be a dog and he certainly didn’t want to be locked in a pound for the rest of his life.  
Noise came from the door the man had left through – this had to be the front, Bucky assumed–and eventually, the man re-entered with the manager.  
Bucky jumped back up, tail slightly wagging. It was an odd sensation, but he couldn’t focus on it as the two men approached Bucky’s cage and reached for the lock.

This is it, I’m getting out, he thought to himself as he prepared to sprint past. However, the owner only opened the door enough to reach in and put a collar around Buck’s neck.  
Shock engulfed Bucky to the point where he went completely still. Someone had just put a collar on him. What the hell? The leash came next and Bucky glared up at the man with hatred. He didn’t need a stinking collar. How was he supposed to take it off once he got home?  
He was unwilling to be dragged out of his cage at first, but seeing no other option, he allowed himself to be pulled from the box. His lead was passed to the man, which made Bucky feel slightly more comfortable, but he was still scornful of the confinement. Once they passed the threshold of the door, they entered a clean reception area. Bucky and his new ‘owner’ passed through the gate to stand on the other side of the counter.  
“Alright, so that’s $200 for the dog. He hasn’t been named yet, so you get to name him!” a young girl with an overly cheerful demeanour informed the beautifully rugged stranger. Bucky felt a wave of guilt at this; the man was paying a lot of money, and all for him. But it was too late to stop him, for the man had already passed over the fee and was being given a form to sign.  
Damn it, I used to have my own job, rent my own apartment and now I’m- oh no! My apartment! How can I pay my rent! I’ll be homeless! Bucky went into a full panicked state. He didn’t have anything of real value at his place, save for his laptop, but he could pick it up providing he could get out without alerting Steve but still, he would be evicted. He wasn’t sure how long he had been thinking of what to do when he was pulled from it by his new companion’s face taking up his view.

“Looks like it’s you and me now, but what should I call you?”  
Bucky looked at the man wearily. Like it or not, it seemed he would be with him for a while. Oh god, how hadn’t I thought of this before? I’m screwed! I can’t be a dog!

“What about Buck? It seems to fit you somehow. I’m Steve.” Steve smiled at Bucky and ruffled his head.  
Great, now my new “owner” can read my mind. Could this get any weirder?  
They left the building and Bucky was led a few blocks away, to his new home, before he began to recognise his surroundings. That pizza place. It was down the street from his apartment. He was near his home. Thank god. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as lucky to be taken to any apartments surrounding his building. Instead, he was taken about two blocks away; this was pretty great actually. He could sneak out later and get his stuff to stash it in this apartment till he could get Nat to pick it up.  
“So, before we go in, I’m going to warn you it’s a bit of a mess, I’ve not cleaned for a while but I’ll do it later I promise.”  
Bucky was perplexed. Why would Steve worry about a dog judging his cleaning habits? He seemed to have grown pretty nervous, come to think of it, since they arrived in the building. What was wrong with him?

He led Bucky to an apartment on the third floor, on the far end of the corridor. Bucky made sure to take note of exactly where he was going as he may get lost in the dark.  
As they entered the apartment, Bucky prepared himself for the worse. This guy’s worry had been pretty convincing and he didn’t want to offend him by looking shocked – he knew it was ridiculous as he was a dog, but old habits and all. The apartment, however, was almost immaculate, save for the misplaced cushions, the blanket thrown on the couch and a few dishes in the sink. He was about to continue forward when Steve kneeled next to him and began to unhook his leash. Before Steve could stand upright again, Bucky lightly tugged at his collar and stared at the man, hoping Steve would get the message. It was received in haste as Steve fiddled with the collar and Bucky was soon released.  
Ah, freedom. He’d never realised how suffocating those things were, but he vowed when he was himself again, he’d never put another dog through that.

Steve looked at him nervously as he stood. “So this is your new place. As I said, it’s a little messy. I’ve been sort of holed up in here for a while since I got back from- well it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you must be starving.” He turned to his kitchen area and pulled out a bowl and dog food he had read in one of his cabinets.  
Eww, oh man I’m going to have to eat this. I can’t very well refuse it. As it was set down in front of him, Bucky hesitantly smelt it. This is going to be disgusting. He cautiously leaned down and took a tentative bite from the collection of dry food. Hmm, not that bad. Call him crazy or blame the changed palette, but Bucky scoffed down the food with abandon.  
Once the food was gone, Bucky once again took notice of his surroundings. Steve had moved over and was almost finished the dishes. He left him there to go lie on the sofa. This was now a waiting game; he just had to outlast Steve so he could sneak out.

For the first couple of hours, Steve was busy in another room – he was probably cleaning considering the hectic run around he had given the kitchen and living room – while Bucky sat on the sofa watching the switched on TV. Eventually though, Steve joined Bucky on the sofa. He looked more worn out than he had earlier. Bucky was becoming concerned so he leaned into him, encouraging him to relax. Steve rested his arm on Bucky’s back and lightly stroked at the hair on the crown of his head, eventually his actions became less and less until his hand lay limp on top of Bucky.  
By this point, the sun was beginning to set and Bucky was exhausted. He rose off of the couch slowly to avoid waking Steve, and then Bucky tugged the blanked over the large man.  
He found the window to the fire escape easily – round the corner in a sectioned hall – and he manoeuvred his way out and down the fire escape. Getting to his apartment was easy, but he kept to the shadows to avoid getting caught again. Once inside the slight opening in the window, he walked over to his laptop he had nudged under the sofa and pawed it out.

He struggled getting it into his duffle bag, but he managed. He also packed his phone, wallet, keys, clothes – thanking god for his bed storage – and anything he deemed irreplaceable, such as keepsakes and photos. The apartment came furnished, so he didn’t care about the furniture or utilities. He packed up the apartment of anything special to him, leaving it seemingly untouched.  
The bag was almost full, and the weight was burden, but he didn’t mind as long as he didn’t need to come back here again or worry about losing anything when he undoubtedly got kicked out for not paying his rent. His haul back was easier than he expected, the weight of the bag tolerable when carried in his mouth. Climbing the fire escape and slipping back in, Bucky dropped the bag by the window and searched for a place he could hide it. He found one, under the bottom of Steve’s wardrobe in a seemingly forgotten cranny under a false-bottom shelf.  
He quickly retrieved the bag and nudged it into the back of the space to hide from immediate sight. Pushing another bag in front of it, Bucky was satisfied and could relax.  
He returned to the living area to see Steve was still crashed out on the couch. Bucky decided to lie down on the fluffy rug and get some sleep.

The next morning, Bucky awoke to the smell of bacon being cooked. His head darted in its direction, and from this angle, he could only spot the top of Steve’s head over the counter.  
He got up and walked to Steve and greeted him with a stretch. He’d figured last night that he was staying here for the time being, so he would have to act like a dog.  
Steve had showered, his hair was still wet, and was wearing a different shirt with jogging bottoms. “Hey Buck, seems like we both fell asleep early yesterday, huh?” Steve had smiled and turned to Bucky to pet his head.

Bucky smirked back at him. Nope, just you.

“Well anyway, I’m gonna make us some breakfast, then we could go for a run. You up for that?”  
Bucky felt relieved and wagged his tail. He had left the apartment before, obviously, but he’d not exercised since the change. Steve smiled down at him once more and turned back to fixing his breakfast.  
They ate in relative silence, though Bucky could not help the loud crunching of his dried food mixed with the few rations of bacon Steve had slipped him, but it was nice.  
Before leaving, Steve was hesitant to re-apply the collar to Bucky’s neck. “Look, I know you don’t like it and I don’t either, but if you’re good and can learn to run along next to me, we can go out without it.”  
Bucky reluctantly agreed to have the collar attached, knowing he’d have to prove himself loyal to Steve. And so they went out for the run. Steve was unsurprisingly extremely fit, and Bucky was huffing by the time they returned back to their shared apartment. Steve seemed to not have broken a sweat.

Lying side by side on the bed with Bucky later that evening, Steve stared blankly up at the ceiling. He seemed lost in himself, struggling internally with some great deliberation.  
Bucky nudged Steve’s arm slightly, concerned with this obviously troubled state.  
“Oh, sorry Buck, I think I got lost there. Sam says I should try to keep out of my head. It’s not good for me.”  
Bucky spotted a pad and pencil on the bedside table to occupy Steve . Careful as not to damage it, Bucky picked it up with his mouth and dragged it over to rest on Steve's stomach.  
Steve looked up, at first confused, but Bucky only sat there looking expectantly between the pad and him.

He eventually gave in and asked “You wanna see some of my sketches?”  
Bucky positioned himself beside Steve and rested his head on his chest to see the book. Steve carefully rested the book against his bent legs to act as a stand and opened the page, using his free hand to stroke Bucky's back. He showed Bucky an assortment of drawings: he had portraits, some were a multitude of angles of the same people, landscapes Bucky recognised to be the views seen from his windows, busy streets packed with bodies and an outline of an animal.  
“Oh, see this is going to be you, I started it yesterday.” He reached over to his bedside counter to rescue the abandoned pencil and began to carry on with the sketch. As he progressed, Bucky recognised his new form lying lazily on the couch positioned toward the TV. It looked homely and comforting, the soft blankets surrounding Bucky and the slight glow emitting from the screen in the dark. Bucky hadn’t realised Steve had even seen him like this – never mind began to draw him.

Steve had gotten to the stage of shading when he packed his stuff back into the draw and declared it time to sleep. Reasoning that they had another run tomorrow morning and he had work to start in the day.  
Bucky began to make his way to the couch when Steve called “Hey, where you going? You’re sleeping on here with me.”  
Bucky happily trotted back to the bed to continue being near his new friend. It was bizarre and slightly ironic, but Bucky was actually beginning to consider Steve as one of his, if not his only, best friend. Either way, he settled quickly and was asleep in minutes.

He was awoken perhaps an hour or two later by a slight shaking. His head shot up, searching for danger but saw only Steve, rolled away from him and shuddering. He nosed Steve's back and he sniffed as Steve turned toward Bucky. “Sorry, Buck I didn’t mean to wake you.”  
Bucky tilted his head questioningly at Steve.  
“It’s nothing, Buck, don’t worry. Just a bad night.”  
Not giving up so easily Bucky nudged him again, this time in the cheek.  
“Alright fine, it’s not nothing. I’m just having a difficult time at the moment. I just keep having bad days and they're really outweighing the good. I thought I would be fine with the new meds they gave me, but nothing I do seems to have any real purpose, and whatever does seems to automatically be corrupted like I’m caught in a storm and I have nothing to anchor to. It’s all getting washed away.” The look of pensive fight grew on his face.

“My friend Peggy, she used to be my anchor. We were friends for years and recently they found a tumor which is slowly adding more pressure to her brain. It began to manifest itself as manageable side-effects, such as migraines and light sensitivity, but it’s escalated lately to recurring short term amnesia. She is still Peggy, but she doesn’t deserve this – doesn’t deserve to always feel like she’s missing a major part of her life. That said, no one knows how much worse it’s going to get, so it’s very tense at the moment.”  
Bucky didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t say anything, but he felt the urge to comfort Steve.

“It’s actually how you and I ended up together. I wanted someone who didn’t have anyone either. I thought maybe we could anchor each other.”  
It was strange; Bucky had never thought himself alone before, yet Steve's words seemed to reveal a part of Bucky he hadn’t noticed was hollow. He had been pandering through life, not really achieving anything or setting any real goals to aim for.  
Not anymore. From now on, he was going to be here for Steve. Lord knew he needed it.  
Bucky just leaned into Steve; trying to hug him in his awkward shape and Steve accepted it, pulling him closer to him and relaxing slightly. Bucky realised this was the most contact he’d had with someone in a long time - even before his change, he had led a very singular life. Nat always joked that he was fossilising because he acted like a grandpa, never really leaving his apartment except to work or pick up food – and he thought it was nice.

When Steve pulled away he could tell there was some reluctance. “Alright, back to sleep. I wasn’t lying about the busy day tomorrow.”  
This time when he was settled, Bucky waited till he heard Steve's breathing even out before he allowed himself to relax and fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys if you liked this and there's any specific Stucky stuff that you want to see, comment and I will try to fit each one into my next fics, thanks


End file.
